


Exhibit A for America

by tryxchange



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 03:29:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1453804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryxchange/pseuds/tryxchange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A trip to the art museum. A snippet inspired by a few of copperbadge's comments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exhibit A for America

Natasha was good at reading people. She didn't see the point of modesty, unless it was in the service of helping her enemies (and, let's be honest, her friends) underestimate her. She wasn't good at reading people, she was _phenomenal_. So when she, Tony and Pepper followed Captain America into the art exhibit, Natasha was the first to notice that there was something wrong with Steve.

A second earlier, he'd been the bashful All-American Boy Scout, yes- and no-ma'aming the docent in charge of Captain America, the Art and Culture of America's World War II. He'd been everything that the docent (Natasha thought her name was Kimberly) probably wanted in an American icon. Natasha herself sort of hated this part of him. He made it look so easy, being good. And he wasn't even smug about it. It was disgusting.

But then they turned into the gallery, and she was the first to see the signs of the other Steve Rogers. His shoulders got a little tense, and his head jerked a little, and Natasha could see one hand spasm as though he was reaching for the shield he'd left back at the tower.

Of course, then he opened his mouth, and everyone could see it.

"What is that doing here?" he asked, low and dangerous. He wasn't moving forward anymore, and he was looking at– Oh. He was looking at _that_ painting. The portrait. It had some horrific, pretentious title in the art world, something about gods and men. On the internet, most people called it The Big Red. Natasha found that amusing, and a little offensive. (Clint thought it was hysterical, and that was why Clint wasn't invited to art openings.)

"Captain Rogers, this is an important piece from the war–" the docent was saying.

"I know what it is," Steve grated out. "Do you?"

Probably-Kimberly looked insulted. "Captain Rogers, this is my _job_."

Steve still hadn't moved. "Your job. Yeah, well, I had a job, too, and this wasn't part of it. Take it down."

Natasha stood on her tiptoes to peer around him. The gallery was packed with paintings, mostly of Captain America, of course. Here and there were other things: paintings of battle, photos of refugees, sculpture by that one survivor that had been making a name for himself, and The Big Red. It was under lights all by itself on a pillar. It kind of drew attention.

"It's a part of the exhibit," Kimberly said firmly.

"Is she trying to be firm?" Pepper asked, behind her. "With _Steve_?"

"Take it down," Steve repeated.

There were already people in the gallery. Mostly press, and a few special guests.

"PR nightmare," Tony whispered. Natasha wasn't sure if he was answering Pepper, or talking about Captain America disagreeing with his own exhibit. Either way, it was true.

"Sorry, Natasha, can I just?" said Pepper. Natasha stepped out of the way, and Pepper nodded her thanks on her way through.

"Stacy," Pepper said to the docent (not Kimberly after all) in soothing tones, "you've been amazing. I can't imagine how you were able to pull all of this together! It's a stunning collection."

Stacy looked pleased. Pepper took her by the elbow and kept talking.

Natasha went for Steve. "Captain," she said, standing at his side.

"Do you know about that painting?" he asked. This was the Steve she liked, the angry one, the one who was human and fallible and confused, and just at the moment, completely tense with rage.

"Some," said Natasha, assessing it. It was more disturbing in person than online. "Do you think it does him justice?" she asked, to mask her discomfort. From here, the title was visible. _Exceeds Man's Might._ Someone had named it after the war, if she recalled correctly. 

"Do you know how it was painted?" Steve demanded, finally turning from it to glare at her.

"No," she said, and judging by Steve's expression she probably didn't want to know. If he needed to tell her, though, she would listen.

He seethed for a second. Then, in a very quiet voice, he said, "Let's just say that the artist wouldn't have wanted it displayed." He dropped to a whisper. "Or created."

Natasha nodded. "Come on," she said. "Let Pepper sort it out."

"She's very good, isn't she?" said Tony, popping up behind them. "Not as good as me, but good nonetheless." He watched Pepper and the docent for a minute. He completely ignored the painting. "Anyone want coffee? Because I want coffee. There's a shop, I saw a shop when we came in. Steve, coffee? Nat?"

"I could use a cup," said Natasha. "Come on, Rogers. Pepper will fix it."

Steve looked at the portrait one more time, then let himself be pulled away.

A week later, after all the fuss was over, Natasha and Pepper went out for coffee.

"What did you do with it?" Natasha asked.

Pepper sipped at her latte. "They decided to auction it off to the highest bidder and donate the proceeds to the VA."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "So Stark Industries is the proud new owner of a creepy piece of war memorabilia?" Steve probably wouldn't like that at all. She hoped they weren't storing it at the tower.

"Oh no," said Pepper, smiling. "Tony and I had a lovely bonfire on the roof last night. We invited Steve. He brought marshmallows."

Pepper, after all, was good at reading people too.


End file.
